“You really are a bad influence.” I patted Theo’s face, which was resting beside mine, and felt his grin. “You’re proud of yourself?”
“It was your idea to study in your dorm.”
“Study, Theodore.”
He cupped my tit. “We’ll study, but I’m not going to be on a bed with you and not need to be inside you. That’s just not possible. You need to know that now.”
“The time to tell me that was when I suggested studying here instead of the library.”
His teeth scraped my shoulder. “You don’t have to fight me. You were with me the whole way.”
I sighed. “I was. You’re hot and your dick is nice, so yeah, I was with you. That doesn’t mean it was a good choice. I still have to study, and now all I want to do is nap or sit on your face.”
His laughter shook me. “You’re telling me I didn’t take good enough care of you?” His hand drifted from my tit to cup between my thighs. “This pussy isn’t satisfied?”
“Satisfied? Yes. A greedy bitch? Also yes.” I rolled to my other side, so we were facing each other. “I’m ninety-seven percent joking. Not about the studying—about the face sitting.”
Because it was Thursday, we should have been in the library in Theo’s hidey spot. My intentions had been mostly pure, inviting him back to my room to study instead. After his big speech about not committing and not wanting a relationship or complications, I was the only one actually putting distance between us. Theo kept holding my hand after class, making out with me against walls and under trees, picking me up from work at two in the morning. So, I figured if he was going to go all in on this...thing, then it was time I relaxed and gave in to the pull that made me want to hang out with him all the time.
I’d been stupid to think we’d actually get any studying done with an empty dorm and a bed at our disposal. Because, like I said, Theo was hot and his dick was nice.
Theo patted my hip. “Get dressed. You study like a good girl, I’ll take care of your pussy again. You can sit on my face any time you want.”
I palmed his face. “Shush. Don’t call me a good girl in that voice when I’m trying to get my shit together. That’s not fair in any way.”
“What voice?” His expression was bemused. My entire face and chest heated.
“You know your voice. It’s all lovely and low and sounds like you’re about to recite sonnets about the way my hair catches the sun or my eyes glimmer in the moonlight.” I snarled. “You know the voice.”
He slowly shook his head. “No one’s ever said anything about my voice. I think that’s a you thing, Tiger.”
Needing out of this conversation, I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed. My T-shirt was on the other side of the room, but my underwear was on the ground. I slipped them on, then stalked to where my shirt had been flung. I felt Theo’s eyes on me—my ass—but I kept my back to him, tugging on my shirt, then disappeared into the bathroom.
I shouldn’t have said anything about his voice. What had I even been thinking? I wasn’t. He’d dicked me so well, part of my brain had fallen out. Obviously, I wasn’t in my right mind, waxing poetic about Theo’s voice.
I washed my hands, brushed my hair, and swiped on a thick coat of lipstick. The red brought me back to myself. I shook the orgasm haze out of my limbs, sucked in a breath, and opened the door.
My room was empty, my shorts folded neatly on the bed. I tugged them on, then I found Theo on the couch in the living room, his computer open in his lap, feet kicked up on the coffee table.
He looked me over with a slight quirk of his mouth but he didn’t say a peep. I fell down on the armchair with my textbook, opening it to a random page, knowing I wasn’t going to be able to study with him here.
A text on my phone saved me from having to pretend.
Bash:Hey. What do you want for your birthday?
Sebastian Vega never wasted words. He’d been like that since we met our freshman year of high school. His girlie, Grace, had cracked him open, but she was the only one who got to see inside. We got along because he was solid, he skated, he put up with my attitude, and these days, he had a kick-ass girlfriend.
Me:Did Grace make you text?
Bash:Yeah. Question still stands.
Me:I really don’t need anything.
Bash:You know that’s not gonna fly with Grace.
Me:Fine. If you or Gracie have a piece of art lying around, that’s just wasting away, I’ll take it.
Sebastian was a graffiti artist while Grace sculpted metal. They were both incredible at what they did. I didn’t actually expect a piece of their art, but it was the first thing that had popped into my head. I hated asking for anything, even for my own birthday.